Page 139 of Only Between Us

Refusing to back down.

“This isn’t over for me. Tell me you don’t want this to end.”

“I don’t want it to end. Brooks, if there was a way, I’d be here with you.”

“Then find a way.” He rakes the hair off my face, kisses my cheek, my forehead, my mouth. “Find a way, because I’m yours, Siena. I’m yours now, yours tomorrow. I’ll be yours even if you decide you’re no longer mine. But, please, don’t let today be that day.”

His words embolden my heart as it fights, gasping for life. Because none of that felt like a breakup. None of it.

It felt like me and Brooks, and the kind of love that makes you do crazy things just to keep it. Like trying to quit your dream career a second after you get it back, or paying people off to keep raising their daughter yourself.

Turns out, Brooks was right. When it comes down to it, I don’t have it in me to let him go. “We’re not breaking up.”

Relief floods his perfect face. He kisses me hard. “Thank fuck.”

“I need to go home. To talk to my mom. “Figure out a way to be here.”

“And if you do?”

“Then I’ll come back.” I stroke a wave off his forehead. “I promise.”

Chapter48Siena

Hey, it’s Brooks. Leave me a message… and I’ll call you back.

Mismatched schedules, missed calls, and spotty text conversations all confirm what I already know: long-distance fucking sucks.

I’ve heard that voicemail recording so many times over the past week, I could recite it in the same cadence as his deep voice. Could cue the exact moment two barks sound in the background, and Brooks trails off on the wordmessageas his focus shifts to Pete before finishing his thought.

I rest my head on the metal shelf behind me, hiding out deep in aisle four to spare customers from my sulking. Brooks looks up at me from the phone in my lap, in a mirror selfie showing off the brand-new Rebels jersey they handed him this morning with his name on the back. Whoever had taken his number eleven in the years since he retired appears to have given it back. The silver chain from my anchor necklace peeks out from the collar. I left it, and my heart, back across the country.

I am so happy for him. Unbelievably proud of him.

And so fucking miserable without him. I’ve dated an in-season athlete before and know just how hard it is to get their attention,during camp especially. But this is the first time I’ve lived it while loving a man so deeply, and every unanswered call or delayed text reply feels harder than the last. If I’m not at work and unable to get to my phone, then Brooks is. If I’m not falling asleep waiting for him to call me after being released from late team meetings for the night, then he’s passing out exhausted by the time I answer that I’m still awake. And any time I do hear his voice feels like taking a single bite of my favorite dessert, without knowing when the next spoonful will come.

Brooks has been so patient with me all week, hasn’t needled me in the slightest about dragging my feet on talking to Mom, but I know the uncertainty can’t be easy on him. Pete misses Brooks just as much, if his limp tail is any indication. It’s made me feel doubly guilty for avoiding Mom all week so that she won’t notice my misery and force me to talk before I’m ready. But it’s cribbage night tonight, and I’ve run out of time. A no-show would be the ultimate tell.

How do you go to one of the most important people in your life and tell her you’re leaving her? That you’re jumping ship on her husband’s legacy, who sacrificed so much for you, a child he picked up off the street?

Between the guilt over leaving Brooks across the country and avoiding Mom, and the guilt over my desire to abandon the shop, I haven’t had a proper meal in days.

I blow out a long breath, listening to the light chatter around the shop and the bell above the door as people come and go. Probably with a hefty pile of stolen lures and live bait because I’ve left the checkout counter unmanned for the past twenty minutes, and Aidan is off competing in one of his surf events in Hawaii.

“Excuse me, do you know where they keep the live bait here?” someone asks toward the front of the shop.

I allow myself one last deep sigh before slapping on a smile that likely looks more psychotic than friendly and dragging my feet toward the register.

“Uh… You know what? I don’t even know what that is. Like, worms?”

My steps stutter at the familiar voice. I emerge from aisle four to find Parker looking around the shop with mild interest, hands tucked into the pockets of his athletic shorts. He’s wearing a UOB T-shirt, light brown hair pushed back and curling around his ears under a backward baseball cap.

“Parker? What’s going on?”

“Cee!” Summer emerges from aisle one. She’s closely followed by Shy who, in a rare occurrence, doesn’t have Rosie trailing her. Which is a shame, because I could have used that little girl’s smile today. “There you are. We had gaps between clients down at the rehab center.”

I let Shy tuck me into her side. “And you decided to shop for lures to fill your time?”

“Rumor has it you need some company.” Parker tips his head to one side, assessing me. “Do you know your shirt’s inside out?”

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